


Burn

by FruitBird (KiwiLombax15)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fireworks, M/M, Masturbation, The great tumblr offload, Trans Junkrat, pyrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 16:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17025723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiLombax15/pseuds/FruitBird
Summary: Junkrat loves to watch things burn...





	Burn

Roadhog grumbled as he hefted the bag of loot. A pathetic amount, really. The firework factory sold most of its stock via electronic transactions, and the safe only had around five thousand credits in it. The art museum downtown had much more valuable loot, they'd have made a lovely score.

But bosses orders...

Behind him, the workers whimpered as Junkrat brandished a lit torch in one hand and his launcher in the other, waving the fire close to the chemicals stored there and laughing as the workers cringed in fear.

“Whoops! It's slipping!” he called out in a sing song voice, waggling the torch near a case of black powder. Someone actually whimpered softly.

“Boss. Got it.”

“OK! Let's hoof it, piggy!”

They dashed out the back entrance, lights from the explosives dotted around the place twinkling. Behind them they heard panicked feet as the employees stampeded out like rats from a ship.

The empty warehouse next door was solid concrete, sturdy and fireproof. A good place to watch the event. Junkrat was jittering, eyes blazing like a wild fire.

“Make it boom, big ol' boom. Burn it all so pretty, pretty pretty...” he mumbled. They had found a good vantage point in the old supervisors office, window facing the factory. Eyes only on the window, Junkrat fumbled for his belt and let his pants fall from his meager hips. He was hard already, T dick jutting up from a nest of wiry blond hair. Gripping his detonator, he flopped down in the musty chair and hit the button.

He'd tamped the charges down slightly. There was black powder and chemicals already there, no sense overshadowing the display. For a moment, the factories windows blazed orange, a muffled “THOOM” echoing through the industrial district. Then the black powder went up, the factory opening up like a flower to the concussive blast. The sound was an almost physical thing and Junkrat shuddered in his chair, stroking himself off as metal fingers tweaked a nipple. He drooled, blind to everything but the fire.

Roadhog had seen this before, when the fire consumed him. This was a part of Junkrat he couldn't share, the fire never engulfing him like it did his partner. Heat and gunpowder and chemicals had been Junkrat's first loves, fiery fingers still entwined in his heart. When he was like this he was almost...wild. Eyes like an animal in heat as he pleasured himself like he never did for Roadhog's eyes. The man wasn't jealous. Later he'd take him to bed, work out the tension of the heist. But taking this from Junkrat...

He wouldn't be Junkrat anymore.

Best to just enjoy the show.

The strontium carbonate caught and flared, red blooming in the heart of the flames, crackling and roaring. When it reached the copper chloride, the blue fire mingled, violet fire like a deep sunset. 

Junkrat whimpered, fingers dipping briefly inside himself before darting up to pinch the sensitive tip. The heat of the flames reached him and he cried out.

Sodium nitrate flared, the calcium chloride flushing orange through the cheerful yellow. Barium chloride bloomed green, life over a desert. Magnesium flared and crawled through the fire like a tongue over hot skin. The colours mingled and flickered, their explosions blurring and moving like an energetic fuck. Fire demons coupling, grinning, inviting him to join them. Hungry noises hissed from him. His fingers were a blur over his twitchy length, every muscle and sinew taut.

A wire.

A fuse.

He could feel the heat on him like a tongue. Fire, beautiful fire. His first lover, his sweetest darling. So many times the heat and force had held him and filled him. No man could compare to this, the scorch marks that healed so slow, left tingles in his cock as he got them. The smell of fireworks better than the musk of sex. 

Little pockets of black powder caught, booms echoing through the roar and crackle, each one a shock down his spine. Sweat soaked him, legs spread open shamelessly as his hand worked. Just the way he liked it. Firm rub up the length, work the head then down, feeling the pulse in it, the aching throb. Worship it, worship the fire, give himself at the alter of it that he might be blessed.

Little embers were drifting through the open window, alighting on bare thighs in little points of bright sensation that robbed him of his voice. He gaped, throat dry in the heat as he fought for words.

“Please...please...” What he begged for he didn't know, but he needed something.

Then the iron caught, gold iridescence making the fire something otherworldly. Precious. Wild and free, made by his hands but out of his control.

Beautiful.

So beautiful.

He came _hard_ , spine curving back in an arch as his remaining toes curled, every cut muscle stark under his skin. The fire was _in_ him, under his skin, in his skull, his thoughts, his soul.

Nothing but fire.

Roadhog heard sirens coming and grunted.

“Boss.” 

Junkrat was limp in his chair, sweat soaked hair plastered to his forehead. He looked dazed, out of it. He always was after this.

“Huh?”

“Sirens.”

“Whuh?”

“We gotta go.”

“Oh....r-right...”

He tugged Junkrat's pants on for him and scooped him up bridal style. His own body felt tense. Watching Junkrat do this was better than porn. He'd never be able to think of fireworks now without thinking of Junkrat flushed and hungry. He _wanted..._

But later. He was patient. Right now he had to get him to safety.

“Beautiful...” Junkrat mumbled.

“Yeah.”

“It was so beautiful...”

“Always is.”

Already drifting, Junkrat watched the fire disappear behind him as they ran into the night. The last sight of it Roadhog saw was the reflection of it, burning in Junkrat's golden eyes.


End file.
